


Naptime

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Age Difference, Bunniverse, M/M, Napping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:57:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9178534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: If you keep saying something, chances are, others will eventually believe it.





	

“Just because I would rather not go does not mean you cannot,” reasoned Erestor. “You are young yet; I am old. That concert will not even begin until after my bedtime.”

Thranduil chuckled from a chair a few feet away where he was rereading a favorite book. Glorfindel was still hoping to change his husband’s mind, and came around the main counter to sit upon the librarian’s desk. “Come now, you are not old. Besides, you can take a nap before the music starts.”

“Of course I am old. I am at least twice your age,” Erestor reminded him.

“Oh, stop. You cannot be that old.” But then Glorfindel took to thinking, and the equations began to form in his head. “Actually, I only count the years I was alive and not the ones in between...” he mused.

Erestor looked up from his work and narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“A friendly word of caution,” called out Thranduil after he made sure he would not disturb any other patrons. “The more you keep telling someone something, the more likely they are to one day agree with you.”

“When were you born again?” Glorfindel interrupted.

“None of your business,” huffed Erestor, bowing his head and attempting to ignore his lover for the moment.

Thranduil motioned Glorfindel over and whispered something to him. “He’s what?” Glorfindel’s jaw dropped as Erestor looked up and shot a dirty look at Thranduil. “That makes you more than four times as old as I am. You cradle robber, you,” he teased when Erestor sighed.

“A twenty-thousand-year-old elf marrying a five-thousand-year-old elf. Absolutely appalling,” added Thranduil with half a grin.

“Shhh! This is a library, not a... a... conversation place,” scolded Erestor, obviously flustered. “If you want to talk, then go outside!”

Knowing that Erestor was not really all that angry, Thranduil set the book on a cart of things to be shelved and gave Glorfindel a pat on the shoulder as he left. The blond wandered around his hardworking husband and gently placed his hands on Erestor’s shoulders, happy that they were not shrugged off. “Darling, I am sorry. I did not think you would be so sensitive.” As his hands kneaded Erestor’s shoulders, he bent slightly to kiss the dark haired head.

Relaxing a little and shoving his work aside, Erestor folded his arms on the top of the desk and said, “I did not expect to be ridiculed for it. Respect your elders and all of that.”

“You are not my elder,” chuckled Glorfindel, nuzzling against the dark hair that covered an ear that he coaxed out of hiding and kissed. “You are my equal other half. The only one I feel so comfortable with that I adoringly tease, but never to hurt you. I hate to see my beautiful baby sad for any reason.”

“That hardly seems accurate for you to say.”

Pulling Erestor up out of his chair, Glorfindel sat down and then tugged on the dark elf’s arm until he sat upon his knee. “What would you have me say instead? I hate to see my beautiful old geezer sad for any reason?” Glorfindel held onto Erestor’s wrists, and from the narrowing eyes, he knew this was the right tactic in order not to get hit. “Shall we head home early so that you may take a nap? Then right after, I can serve you a lovely dinner of prunes and applesauce-“

“Are you trying to find ways to visit the Halls of Waiting again?” questioned Erestor as Glorfindel began to chuckle. “Because at this point, I could personally arrange it.”

“Oh, you should not do that,” snickered Glorfindel. “Who will fetch your cane and be around to take care of you in case you fall and break a hip?”

Breaking free of Glorfindel’s grasp, Erestor took to pummeling his shoulder for a moment with his fists, but realizing this only made Glorfindel laugh harder, he reached up and grabbed his lover’s ear, twisting it like he would a naughty child’s. “Oww! Owwowowow... alright- ow! –I know where the line is. Obviously I- owww! –crossed it! Sorry! Sorry!” He was still laughing slightly as Erestor let go of his ear. “Quite a lot of power you have for one of your age,” he mumbled.

“And I will thank you not to bring up my age again,” Erestor said, smoothing out his robe.

Cocking an eyebrow upwards, Glorfindel said, “Actually, you were the one to initiate talk on the subject, my dear. At this point I would normally insert a joke regarding your possible senility, but I still have feeling in some parts of my ear.”

There was a lengthy pause while Erestor recalled the beginning of the conversation. “Oh,” was all he said.

“Now, I have a splendid idea. You put away your work for the day, the two of us go back home for a bit, take a nap together- because despite being four times your junior, I am far from being ‘young’ myself- and we can go to the concert this evening,” suggested Glorfindel.

“If we take a ‘nap’ together,” Erestor said, “you know as well as I that we shall never make it to the concert.”

“Quite possibly so,” answered Glorfindel. “However, it is a risk I am willing to take.”


End file.
